“I’m in over my head,” he said finally. “I mean, I knew that I was out of my fighting weight the moment you asked me to be your running mate. But I didn’t really think we could win the election, and a vice-presidential bid seemed like a nice way to finish out my political career.”
Chandler shrugged. “I didn’t expect to win either,” he said. “I think you knew that when I invited you on to my ticket. But here we are…”
President Wainwright nodded. “Here we are… Or at least, here I am. Because you left me holding the bag, Frank.”
The former president shrugged again. “My political career was dead after Kamchatka. You know that, Dal. I was the first president to order a nuclear attack since Harry Truman. And unlike Harry, I hadn’t just accepted the surrender of the Nazi powers.”
Chandler sighed. “If I hadn’t resigned, I would have been impeached. Either way, you were going to end up sitting in the big chair. So I decided to go gracefully, while that was still an option.”
“I know you didn’t have much of a choice,” Wainwright said. “And I know you played the best hand you could with the cards you were dealt. But what I don’t know, is what I’m supposed to do now…”
Frank Chandler leaned back in his chair. “Oh… That’s simple. Listen to your people, but think for yourself. And try to make the best decisions you can.”
He wiped his hands briskly, as though brushing off the dust at the end of a job well done. “If that’s all you need to know, I’m going to get back on the plane and head home.”
“I’m not joking,” the president said. “I’ve got serious problems here.”
“I’m not joking either,” Chandler said. “And that was a serious answer. It may seem trite, but I just told you everything you need to know to handle this job.”
Wainwright snorted. “Look, I’m not sure how much you know about the situation in Asia, but the whole damned continent is getting ready to implode.”
He looked at his watch. “A little over an hour ago, we shot down a Chinese surveillance satellite over the Bay of Bengal. About forty-one hours from now, the Republic of India is going to conduct a crippling attack against the national infrastructure of the People’s Republic of China. Unless my military advisors and the entire intelligence community are completely out to lunch, China is probably going to respond with a strategic nuclear strike. And the only way I can get the Indian government to back down, is to step into the fight and help them take on the Chinese military.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “No matter what I do, the shit is going to hit the fan.”
“You’re probably right,” Frank Chandler said. “But you can’t let that stop you.”
The president opened his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“It sounds to me like you’re trying not to screw up.”
“Of course I’m trying not to screw up,” the president snapped. “If I handle this the wrong way, a lot of people are going to get killed over there.”
Chandler turned his hands palm-up. “Well, I don’t exactly get Sit Room briefings any more, but from what I’ve seen on CNN, people are getting killed over there already. Tibetan protestors. A whole village full of Indian civilians. Chinese sailors. Indian sailors. Some of our own fighter pilots. And it’s only going to get worse as this situation drags on.”
The president stared at him. “What’s your point?”
“My point is this,” Chandler said, “you can’t lead by trying to avoid trouble.”
He smiled. “Let me share a piece of genuine wisdom with you. Sometimes, we get so wrapped up in trying not to do the wrong thing that we forget to do the right thing.”
“That sounds familiar,” the president said.
Chandler nodded. “It should sound familiar. You said it to me about six hours after my first inauguration.”
Wainwright waved a dismissive hand. “I was babbling. As I recall, we went to nine or ten different inauguration parties that night. The champagne was getting to my head.”
Chandler shook his head. “Pardon me for saying so, Mr. President, but that’s pure unadulterated horseshit. You were as sober as a judge. And that turned out to be a damned useful piece of advice. It kept me moving forward every time I found myself with a tough choice that I didn’t want to make.”
He smiled again. “So, now I’m handing your own advice back to you. Stop trying not to screw up. That’s a recipe for permanent indecision. Forget about it, and concentrate on doing what you believe is right. There might be consequences. Hell, there almost certainly will be consequences. That’s the nature of the game.”
He stood up. “Listen to your people, but make your own decisions. It’s all you can do. That’s all anyone has ever managed, including the men who sat in this office before us. And now, Mr. President… It’s your turn to do it.”
Without another word, Frank Chandler walked to the door and was gone.
The president sat for several minutes after the former commander-in-chief had left the room.
Finally, he stood up, walked to his desk and picked up the phone. He punched the number for the Situation Room Duty Officer.
“This is the president,” he said. “Start waking people up. I want the full battle staff in the Sit Room in an hour.”
He hung up the phone. It was time to get to work.
CHAPTER 40
The screen filled with an establishing shot of a computer-generated globe, circled continually by a swarm of CG satellites, each casting a translucent ring of simulated coverage on the rotating earth below. Superimposed over the lower left hand corner of the screen was the red, white, and blue logo of the Fox News Channel.
The voice of early morning news anchor, Ted Norrow, cut in — providing background narration for the animatic.
“This is low earth orbit, where approximately thirty-eight-hundred manmade satellites are circling the world at any given time, providing telephone communications, television broadcasts, GPS navigation signals, weather tracking, internet access, and many other services that are indispensible to modern civilization.”
The view cut to a close-up of Ted Norrow’s handsome face, staring into the camera with a charmingly somber expression. After two beats, the camera pulled back to a medium shot of the Fox News studio desk, with the satellite animatic reduced to a cameo window over Norrow’s left shoulder.
A teaser bar at the bottom of the screen flared with the Fox logo and a wireframe graphic of a satellite bracketed by an artist’s conception of targeting crosshairs. The words ‘Breaking News’ appeared in simulated chrome lettering below the graphics.
“Approximately seventy percent of the satellites in low earth orbit are commercially owned and operated,” the news anchor said. “The other thirty percent belong to the militaries and intelligence services of the United States, and other countries.”
The animatic changed to a close-up of a satellite hanging in the blackness of space.
“According to unconfirmed reports,” Norrow said, “approximately five hours ago, a U.S. Navy warship engaged and destroyed a Chinese military surveillance satellite in orbit over the Bay of Bengal.”
“Again,” Norrow said, “I have to emphasize that these reports have not yet been confirmed. We’re expecting a statement from the Department of Defense shortly, but for the moment, we do not have corroboration from a reliable source.”